/lit/ - Literature

>>16640258

Pic related is a Horace translation by Dunsany.

Here’s a translation of the Baudelaire poem “the clock”

The clock, evil, terrifying, inscrutable god
Whose menacing finger warns us, crying "Remember!”
Throbbing pains will soon stab your quivering heart
As into a target

Pleasure will vanish like a cloud over the horizon,
Like a sylph vanishing into the wings of a stage
Each moment is devouring some portion of that delight
Which is granted to every man for his season of existence

Three thousand and six hundred times an hour,
The Second whispers: 'Remember!'
Swiftly, with the voice of an insect, the Present says:
'I'm already your past,
And I have drained your life with my loathsome suckers!'

"Remember! Souviens-toi, O prodigal! Esto memor!
My metal throat can speak all languages
The minutes, O foolish mortal,
Are like ore from which the precious metal must be wrung

Do not forget
Time is a greedy gambler who wins at every turn of the wheel
Without cheating
Such is the law
The day declines, the night deepens
The thirst of the abyss knows no end;
The hourglass drains

The hour will soon strike when divine Chance
Or austere Virtue your still virgin spouse
Or even Repentance your last refuge In fact all three will tell you
'Die, old coward, it's too late”


Ok I’ll stop spamming my favorites.

Pic related is a Horace translation by Dunsany.

Here’s a translation of the Baudelaire poem “the clock”

The clock, evil, terrifying, inscrutable god
Whose menacing finger warns us, crying "Remember!”
Throbbing pains will soon stab your quivering heart
As into a target

Pleasure will vanish like a cloud over the horizon,
Like a sylph vanishing into the wings of a stage
Each moment is devouring some portion of that delight
Which is granted to every man for his season of existence

Three thousand and six hundred times an hour,
The Second whispers: 'Remember!'
Swiftly, with the voice of an insect, the Present says:
'I'm already your past,
And I have drained your life with my loathsome suckers!'

"Remember! Souviens-toi, O prodigal! Esto memor!
My metal throat can speak all languages
The minutes, O foolish mortal,
Are like ore from which the precious metal must be wrung

Do not forget
Time is a greedy gambler who wins at every turn of the wheel
Without cheating
Such is the law
The day declines, the night deepens
The thirst of the abyss knows no end;
The hourglass drains

The hour will soon strike when divine Chance
Or austere Virtue your still virgin spouse
Or even Repentance your last refuge In fact all three will tell you
'Die, old coward, it's too late